


Sherlock and John watch S4

by wendymarlowe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Crack, M/M, Parentlock, S4 fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9138922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendymarlowe/pseuds/wendymarlowe
Summary: 221B ficlet because I'm beyond excited that we're actually getting new canon content TOMORROW and what if it's bad? What if it's really good? What if I explode into a gooey pile of feels all over my sofa? Only seems fair we share some of the angst with our boys :-)





	1. Chapter 1

"It's starting, it’s starting! Get over here!”

“We still have five minutes,” Sherlock muttered, but he came over to join John on the sofa. “Waste of time.”

“Don’t know why you’re so worried - we lived it. We know we survived.” John shoved playfully at Sherlock’s shoulder, but his gaze stayed locked on BBC One. “Why do you think they called this episode the Six Thatchers? I only remember one.”

Sherlock scowled. “I don’t trust Moftiss,” he grumbled. “They exaggerate.”

“So do you.”

“They said I didn’t know the earth went around the sun!”

“And?” John laughed. “You said, and I quote, ‘I don’t see why-’”

“Ssh, it’s starting!” Sherlock interrupted, suddenly interested in the telly. It wasn’t, but that didn’t seem to matter.

John laughed again, but he dropped the subject. “Berk.”

“Pedant,” Sherlock muttered under his breath. Then, louder: “You really think they’ll tell the truth?”

“About us?” John rolled his eyes, but pulled Sherlock into a long kiss. One with a fair amount of tongue. When they finished Sherlock’s hair was mussed and sticking up adorably. “It’s about time someone knew, isn’t it?”

Sherlock frowned. “It’s rather an implausible story,” he mused. “Army doctor-”

“-and consulting detective-”

“-and the episode with the elephant, and-”

A loud cry from upstairs made both of them jump.

John sighed. “And our baby.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor spoilers for The Six Thatchers, although it's probably nothing you haven't heard already even if you haven't watched it yet. No promises about the comment section, though.

John broke the silence first.

“That’s not really . . . that’s not how it happened, is it?”

Sherlock pressed his lips together tightly, but didn’t answer.

“I mean, when that . . . when you . . . did you really go see Ella?”

Sherlock burrowed more tightly against John’s side. “She’s an idiot,” he mumbled, “but it did help.”

“I’m so sorry.” John pressed a lingering series of kisses to Sherlock’s temple. “I’m glad you did. Had that. The support. And-” he took a deep breath “-and I’m really, truly sorry for how I reacted. I hurt you.”

“Boring lives would make a boring programme, I suppose.”

“Still.”

Upstairs Rosie burbled happily, audible even without the assistance of the baby monitor. John eased himself out from under Sherlock’s weight.

“Be right back,” he promised. He dashed up the stairs and located the large stuffed bee Sherlock had given to her at the hospital. It was nearly larger than she’d been, back then. “You don’t mind, do you, Rosie-girl?” he whispered.

She cooed and drooled at him.

“Here.” John slid back into his still-warm seat on the sofa and pressed the bee into Sherlock’s arms. “I promise they’re going to be okay, love.”

Sherlock sniffled.

“Want me to hold you a little longer?”

A nod.

They stayed there on the sofa several minutes, just John, Sherlock, and the bee.

(Stolen blatantly from http://crochetjohnandsherlock.tumblr.com, which you absolutely 100% need to read if you haven't already. She's got a 2017 Johnlock calendar available there, too!)


	3. Chapter 3

John was zoned out in the upstairs rocking chair, Rosie finally dozing off on his chest, when a sound in the doorway jolted him back to full alertness. Sherlock stood backlit by the hall light, lurking in his pajama bottoms and one of John’s old t-shirts and looked adorably rumpled.

“She wanted to be held after her bottle tonight,” John explained, resuming his rocking. “I’ll be back down in a tick. You all right?”

“. . . probably.” Sherlock sighed. “I woke up disoriented. It was hard to convince myself we weren’t back like it was before.”

 _Ah._ “You alone downstairs and me shuffling around up here, totally unaware the man I love actually loved me in return?”

“I . . . yes, that.” He pursed his lips together, a sure tell for when he was experiencing emotions he didn’t quite know how to handle. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you saying those words. To me.”

“You berk.” John pressed a soft kiss to the fuzzy back of Rosie’s head and stood up. “You forgot something.”

“I love you too?”

“Always appreciated, but no. You forgot that _I believe in Sherlock Holmes_.” John laid the now-sleeping Rosie in her crib, then turned to haul Sherlock in by his t-shirt and kiss him too. “I love you, Sherlock,” he whispered. “And I will always believe.”


End file.
